Hello, Dolly, Hello Summer.

posted in: Day In The Life 0
Dual-breed cow on a hillside in Switzerland, in summer. (I am channelling this cow.) Image: Wikipedia.
Dual-breed cow on a hillside in Switzerland, in summer. (I am channelling this cow.) Image: Wikipedia.

Right now, this second, I just got off work.

About an hour ago, I took a bow after giving the evening program at the banquet dinner for the gorgeous, enormous Minnesota Quilt Show here in St. Cloud. The amount of work that goes into a show like this is remarkable. To all the attendees, to the women and men who help make the show every year — and who specifically helped me get here, do my thing, and scoot on out tomorrow morning — thank you. I said it all day long; now it’s in writing.

I got in late last night on a delayed flight. I taught a class from 8:30-11:30am. I learned my books didn’t arrive for the book signing. We did damage control. I did a lecture from 11:40-12:20. I did a book signing from 12:30-1:15. I did a class from 1:30-4:30. I arrived at the banquet dinner at 6:00pm. You may have noted that there wasn’t much time for lunch in my schedule, so I brought snacks. I’ve been trying to avoid excess sugar but there are no words for the joy and gratitude I had around 3:00pm for the four pieces of toffee I found in a Ziploc baggie in my purse. That toffee was the secret to my success.

Here’s what I love to do:

– teach people how to make quilts
– lecture in an entertaining manner on the history of quiltmaking in America
– meet fellow quilters
– travel
– make a living doing what I just described

But I’m going to be honest: I’m in my nightgown with a face mask on, sitting in a Lay-Z-Boy recliner in a hotel room in St. Cloud, MN with my laptop and as of now, as of this very second, I have the entire summer off. This was it. Tonight was the last one. School’s out for the summer, you guys. The last time I had more than two weeks off was January for heaven’s sake. Before that, I couldn’t tell you. But from where I’m sitting, from what I’m looking at on my Google calendar, my next gig is in September and that means I have a summer.

I’m so excited. I’m so happy. I mentioned last week how I’m going to take a Spanish class. But there’s more. I’m going to park my tushie and hand quilt my first quilt. I’m going to work on a cool art project I’ve only just started. You bet your bippy I’ll be blogging. But I’m not going to be writing PaperGirl on a plane, which happens a lot — more than I tell you. I’m going to blog in my very own Lay-Z-Boy (note to self: purchase Lay-Z-Boy) with my very own bed not far away. I might even bake more bread.

Now:

 

I told a ballroom full of people tonight a special piece of news that I have only shared with a few people. Well, I’ve shared it with a few close people in my life and now a ballroom full of strangers. It’s big news, friends. Seismic. Tectonic plate-shifting big. I’m not pregnant. I’m not moving to Germany. I’m not sick again. The news is a very, very good thing. It is a big thing. And I didn’t know when I’d break the news but now, sitting here in a hotel on the banks of the Mississippi River, imagining this special summer stretching out before me, I see that it’s time.

We’ll talk tomorrow.

 

Atlanta, Silk Pajamas, and A Twist At the End.

posted in: Day In The Life, Story, Work 0
It could be an ad for silk pajamas. It could be an ad for something...else. Either way, image courtesy Wikipedia.
It could be an ad for silk pajamas. It could be an ad for something…else. Either way, image courtesy Wikipedia.

This coming week has me heading over to Atlanta to teach and speak at the Original Sewing & Quilt Expo. This is one of my favorite gigs to do because I get to see Marlene. Marlene is the brains behind the Atlanta operation among other, similar operations and has been a friend and mentor to me for years. She was most publicly my friend when I went down in flames in Atlanta a number of years ago; without her help, I might still be casting about in the halls of a hospital in Georgia, filling out endless forms in triplicate and not getting the good kind of pain medicine.

Whenever I go to Atlanta, I am reminded of the first time I went to Atlanta. I was traveling with Bari; like Marlene, Bari is the sort of person you want around when the zombie apocalypse comes. It was awhile ago, but I remember Bari needed to drive to St. Louis to deliver something to her grandmother. That sounds like a cover for something, but I think it was legit. Bari grew up in the Atlanta area and her parents still lived there; for some reason, it made sense for her to drive to Atlanta and then go on to grandma’s house. Bari and I were living together that summer and she asked me if I wanted to go. I had no plans and I loved Bari. We got in her SUV and got on the road.

Bari’s family home was the finest house I had ever been in up to that point. The architecture, the interior, the grounds — these people had impeccable taste in every area in which impeccable taste matters (e.g., food, art, dogs, etc.) And they were all so nice! Within an hour of being welcomed inside, I got used to the fact that there was a grand staircase in the front of the house and a back staircase in the back of the house. I wanted to live in the kitchen and could have, perhaps with ten or eleven other people.

Bari showed me to my own guestroom where I had my own bathroom and my own balcony, I think. There were silk sheets on the bed and I had packed silk pajamas. When I got into bed that night, I really slid around.

All the comfort of that home was thrown into sharp relief the week after: I went to visit my boyfriend Dan in New York City and we heard a dog get shot. Dan lived in Bushwick, Brooklyn, a decade before Bushwick began to be remotely cool or safe. I didn’t like being there, but I really liked Dan. One night, we were going nuts listening to this dog bark and bark and bark and bark and bark and then we heard a gunshot and the dog didn’t bark anymore.

In life, as in patchwork, contrast is what makes things interesting.

Airport Rules, Famous Scones.

posted in: Day In The Life 1
The scone and the damage done. Photo: Me
The scone and the damage done. Photo: Me

The first time I come to the Seattle area and it rains all weekend. What are the chances?!

After a phenomenal experience at the big Puyallup show — thank you to the event hosts and the hundreds of great quilters I met — I’ve come here to the Sea-Tac airport. My flight is in about an hour-and-a-half, but I am at my gate and have been at my gate for a little while. Here are three rules I live by:

1. Never eat Taco Bell, ever.
2. Do not buy deodorant at the drugstore because baking soda is much better.
3. When you’re flying someplace, arrive at the airport as early as you can without camping out overnight, which makes you look like you’re homeless and require aid.

What being early to the airport does is make it impossible for you to be running late to the airport. Running late to the airport is the worst. If you like prickly heat up and down your back for an hour — or more, depending on your proximity to the airport — this is not true for you. For most of us, though, prickly heat is suboptimal. If you straight up miss your flight (e.g., oversleeping, miscalculated departure time) you’ll experience shock and denial. But to just be running late means you might be okay and it’s that “We could make it… We may actually do this…” feeling that is its own special kind of hell. Traffic, ticket counter, security lines — they’re all blocks to your goal. So I avoid all that and get to the airport two hours early. Besides, I get work done at airports because I can’t go clean the kitchen in the middle of writing emails. I can’t decide that I want to work on the couch for awhile and then fall asleep. I must stay alert.

There’s a famous food item on offer at the Puyallup State Fairgrounds. It’s the Fisher scone and there’s only one kind, and it is only sold at the Fair. You can try to make the scones yourself from the mix Fisher sells on their website, but if you want the real, warm, raspberry jam-filled deal, you need to go to Puyallup and get into the fairgrounds. The Fischer flour company started selling these scones over a hundred years ago.  Everyone I met in the first hour of being at the show was like, “Didja get a scone?” and “Have ya heard about the scones?” and “Oh, you gotta get a scone while you’re here.”

Obviously, I got one. Now, I stay pretty far from gluten (this goes back a long time, now) but from time to time, I remind myself that inflammation in my janky abdomen is bad, two bites of a scone is not going to put me in the hospital. So I took that modest-sized, warm, jammy scone from the wax bag and bit into it. Wow. I took another bite. Still good. I put the half-eaten scone on the bag, took this picture, then put the leftover in my tote bag for later.

“Later” was five seconds later. Thanks for a great time, Washington state. Time to board.

.

 

Twenty Questions.

posted in: Chicago, D.C., Day In The Life 0
Publicity photo for early-1960s gameshow, "Queen For a Day."
This photo is public domain, but let’s all hold ABC responsible for the time it held the copyright. 

I am wishing so hard that I could offer all the alternate names I’ve come up with for the gameshow pictured above. Sadly, that sort of content is best saved for PaperGirl: After Dark. So far, that blog does not exist, though it absolutely should. I’ll let you know.

As I mentioned recently, I’ve had a galaxy of question marks spinning ’round my head. With a ginormous project about to launch (just a few more weeks and I can spill the beans) and a Very Big Decision I’ve made (you’re gonna flip when I tell you), I’ve been asking myself many questions. Here are twenty of them.

1. What time is it?
2. Was that my phone or yours?
3. Did I seriously forget to buy yogurt?
4. What day in November should I move back to Chicago?
5. I’m so comfy in bed but I kind of need to pee before I turn out the light. Should I just try to sleep it off or get up and go now so I don’t have to get up at two in the morning?
6. Are PaperGirl readers passing it along to other people because that would be so wonderful?
7. Am I correct in thinking that a forty-year-old woman in good shape is hotter than a twenty-year-old girl in good shape?
8. Did you hear that?
9. Did my tenants in Chicago take good care of my home?
10. Did I come to Washington and stay a year longer than planned because I was running away from something and if so, what was it?
11. If I’m such a hardcore existentialist, how come I hated Crime and Punishment so much?
12. Are you kidding me?
13. Do I still enjoy eggs or do they gross me out?
14. Will the person I went on the road trip with this summer be in my life in a significant way in the future or was that whole thing just a brilliant, brightly shining, but ultimately isolated moment in time? (There were less-shining and isolated moments, like this one.)
15. Do my friends in Chicago miss me?
16. Is it wise to have a box of chocolates in the fridge right now?
17. Is Yuri reading this?
18. Will I ever have enough money to have someone do my hair every day?
19. When’s the next time I’ll be in a hospital bed?
20. Seriously?

Oh, this is fun. I could more. I could do really, really good ones on PaperGirl: After Dark. You’ll be the first to know.

Make + Love Quilts: Signed, Sealed, Delivered!

posted in: Quilting, Work 0
If you start a Christmas quilt now, you will totally get it done.
If you start a Christmas quilt now, you will totally get it done.

This weekend I met hundreds of sweet, talented quilters at Meissner’s sew/quilt haven in Sacramento. Generous stacks of my book, Make + Love Quilts: Scrap Quilts for the 21st Century, went quickly, especially when you consider everyone in the shop was drooling over the newest BabyLock machines and waiting for my mom to come out of the bathroom so she could sign their first issue of Love of Quilting. 

The good news is that there are books left! I’d love to sign a copy of Make + Love for you and send it to your house/apartment/yurt. The bookstore price is $22.95, but I’ll give you for $20, plus $5 shipping and handling. Yeah, it turns out to be about the same amount of money, but it’s signed. Can’t get that on eBay! (I hope.)

The book is my first and includes 12 original scrap quilt patterns for bed-sized quilts and a lot of sparkling content. You get full instructions, tips, and various extras in the book, including this quote from Marilyn Monroe: “It’s not true I had nothing on. I had the radio on.” I’m serious, that is in my quilt book. You’ll see.

Click on the Make + Love Book tab on my website. Scroll down and you’ll find a PayPal button. You don’t need a PayPal account to buy the book. Click the button! PayPal will give me your shipping address. Please let me know who to make the book out to if the name is different from the person paying. I will get books out as soon as I can; my goal is within three (3) days of ordering, but with my travel schedule, be kind. I’ll let you know if it will be much longer than that. Books will be sent media mail.

Isn’t it nice to buy something not through Amazon? If you haven’t done that lately, give ‘er a shot.

*If you live in a country that is not the USA, I’ll happily send a book, but we have to get together on shipping. So put a note in your order when you click it to me.

Ladies In Waiting.

posted in: Day In The Life, Quilting, Work 0
Me and the gals, peeking out the window, waiting for the bride. Photo: Sew Creative
Me and some of the girls, waiting for the bride. Photo: Sew Creative, Lincoln, NE

The sewing retreat in Sioux City was wonderful. My students were brilliant, new friends were made, and all the sponsors — I’m looking at you, BabyLock — were more than generous.

During the morning portion of my Log Cabin paper-piecing master class yesterday, we heard a lot of activity in the courtyard outside our classroom. We looked out to see men setting up chairs and tables for a wedding. As the morning and early afternoon went along, the wedding took shape and we followed the action between quilt blocks.

People began to arrive and music began around 2:00pm or so. When the bride was imminent, those of us in the room threw our patchwork to the side and ran to the window to see her.

I Am Not Moving To Philadelphia.

Philadelphia Court House. Photo: Wikipedia
Philadelphia Court House. Photo: Wikipedia

I’m in Philadelphia. Just one night to see a good friend.

Sometimes, when I have to make a big decision, I am comforted by going through options that are not on the table. In short order, I must make the decision, once and for all, whether I’m going back to Chicago or staying in Washington. Before I list a few options I can cross out, let’s review why I am in Washington at all. (It’s so interesting: when I tell people I live in D.C., they almost always go, “D.C.?? How in the world did you end up there?” I like to tell them that I’m planning to run for president, but then I say that I’m kidding and I go through the story.)

1. I lived in beautiful Chicago, in my home in the South Loop.
2. I met Yuri, a Russian bitcoin speculator with a heart of gold who can play classical piano. We began to love each other very much.
3. Yuri got a job at an exciting startup in New York City.
4. Working, as I do, for myself, I have the ability to work from anywhere. Having, as I did, fond feelings for New York, Yuri and I said, “Let’s go together! Just for a year, see how we like it.”
5. I rented out my condo for a year, put things in storage, and moved to the East Village with 1/3 of my worldly possessions.
6. I detested living in New York City. It felt like I was at a crowded outdoor music festival all the time. I really, really hate outdoor music festivals. I became depressed.
7. Yuri and I, though we loved each other very much, broke up for reasons that people always break up: irreconcilable differences. We became depressed.
8. Having no love for New York and no workable love in New York, and essentially being in exile from Chicago until my tenants vacated in June, I was in a sticky position.
9. A dear friend said to me, “Why don’t you have an adventure? You can live wherever you want for the next eight months. Where have you always wanted to live?” I answered without hesitation, “Washington, D.C.” I performed with the Neo-Futurists for a whole month at the Woolly Mammoth theater several years ago and loved the city on contact. I wanted to return someday.
10. I packed the 1/3 of my worldly possessions into a U-Haul van and drove to D.C., not knowing anyone but excited. And I have a terrible, beautiful love for the city and don’t want to leave, yet, but Chicago is my best friend.

If you missed the cliffhanger decision-making process when I decided to leave New York, start here.

When I verbally go through the steps, I make it quick, but I can’t skip a single one of them. If I don’t say my condo was rented out, a person understandably says, “Well, why not just go back to Chicago?” If I say I moved to Washington without explaining that I had lived there, however briefly, once before, they don’t understand.

But my lease is up in D.C. on June 15th. My tenants are leaving. The clock ticks. The clock stares at me. The time is now. And a new cliffhanger begins. (Insert wink here.) And now, if you’re still with me, a few options that I can rule out, at least, as I work out what the Sam Hill I’m going to do now that it’s flipping May:

1. I am not moving to Philadelphia, nice as it is.
2. I am not moving to Kathmandu.
3. I am not taking a job with streets and sanitation.
4. I am not planning to eat an entire German chocolate cake in a single sitting.
5. I am not planning to throw myself into the Nile.

See? This is easy.

A Tale of Two (More) Rats.

posted in: Day In The Life 0
Hello ratness, my old friend.
Hello ratness, my old friend.

The quilters of Washington, D.C. are making me feel so at home. I had dim sum with Jan last week; she’s a dynamo at work and fearless in the sewing studio and now she’s invited me to a Burns Supper! You gotta google that! And she doesn’t even know I’m Scottish! I cannot wait for this and will give a full report!

This week, I had my second blind date: I met fabulous quilter Carissa. We had tapas, threw back a few sidecars, dished about life, and went to a show. Carissa is very smart, very beautiful, and confessed to me that when she read about my rat problem, she died inside because she once had a rat problem, too. I had second thoughts about leaving the old place; I thought maybe I had been a weenie, that I should’ve just gone on the road for a few weeks and made the management company deal with it before I paid rent. The tale Carissa told me on Tuesday night wiped every molecule of doubt that I had or will ever have about getting the [beep] out of that rental.

Carissa told me that they moved into this house in Dupont Circle years ago. And they started hearing scratching in the walls. She told me that my description of the smell in my former home (“almost sweet” and “sewage-y”) was hard to read because it was dead on and she’d never forget it. Over a few months, the smell and the scratching had stopped being sorta weird and had become Serious Problems. Exterminators were called in. A hole was chopped in the wall. Traps. Estimates.

WARNING: What I’m about to tell you is true and it is so revolting and horrible, you might not be able to handle it. You will probably scream, so make sure that’s not going to scare anyone in the room, especially if they are at a hot stove or putting together a model airplane.

One night, Carissa was up with her newborn baby. She heard splashing. Splashing in the bathroom. Carissa got up, holding sweet little Milo in her arms and, confused as a person would be, hearing splashing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, she went to the bathroom and turned on the light.

There was a rat in the toilet. The rat was in the toilet because it had crawled up through the sewage pipes and was now in the toilet, attempting to claw its way to freedom. I assume “freedom” would have meant Carissa’s bathroom floor.

We were in a taxi when Carissa told me this and I had my mittens over my mouth going, “Ugghgghhh! Ughhhghhhh!” and rocking the way a severely autistic person might rock for comfort. The taxi guy was alarmed. I repeated over and over, “No. No. No. Carissa. No. No, Carissa, no. No.” My new friend told me they did not stay in that house very long after that.

And, real quick, because I can’t believe this happened today, a second rat story:

I turned a street corner and saw one of those two-story inflatable rats that union workers use when they’re striking. The huge rat was outside a hotel and the union guys were blowing whistles and shouting; cars were honking in solidarity. I had to meet someone in the lobby so I crossed the picket line (is that what I did?) and the man working the front door opened the door for me.

“That rat’s for you guys, eh?” I asked. It was possible it was a construction job the union was protesting, not the hotel itself.

“Is that what that is?” the guy said.

I blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“It’s a rat, okay. I thought it was a bear.”

I looked at him. He appeared to be a fully-functioning person. He had a job, obviously. I did not understand, however, how he could spend his entire day in the shadow of the biggest rat in the city (we hope) and though he had to actually step over the creature’s inflated pink tail to go hail taxis for people, he did not register the species of this animal. Forget the cultural context he should know by his age; did the six-foot wide pair of rodent teeth not give this away??

There will be no more rat stories on PaperGirl for a long, long time. This is my promise.

Shipshewana Quilt Fest 2014: Let’s Do This!

posted in: Day In The Life 2
Look at that lineup! It's Shipshewana 2014, folks!
Shipshewana Quilt Fest 2014 is almost here! Just look at that lineup! Google “Shipshewana Quilt Fest” and you’ll get where you need to go.

Next week, starting Tuesday evening, the little town of Shipshewana, Indiana is descended upon by quilters from near and far. What do they come for? Well, sit a minute and I’ll tell you.

:: pulling you up onto my lap ::

Is this weird?

:: you nod; I take you off my lap and set you down on the floor instead ::

Yeah, that’s better. What was I talking about?

Ah, yes! The Annual Shipshewana Quilt Festival!

Oh, there is so much to see and do, quilter. The whole town gets involved. Heck, surrounding towns get involved. There’s a big quilt show with lots of prizes — the Best In Show purse is $3,500! There are lectures and classes, “schoolhouse” demos all day, there are “sewlebrities” and autographs to get, if you’re into that kind of thing and you should be, because it’s really fun to have your book signed by the author (:: cough cough ::). There are events in the evening and supplementary daytime events, too, like garden tours and special exhibits and even outdoorsy things if you get tired of quilts, which you will not, but go ahead and get in a kayak for a minute, if you must. We’ll wait for you to come to your senses.

:: waiting for you to come to your senses ::

But perhaps the best part is that there is so much fabric at the Shipshewana Quilt Festival. So much. There’s a “Backroads Shop Hop” that takes you to a slew of quilt shops in the area and there’s the big kahuna, Yoder’s Department Store, in Shipshe proper. I have spent large sums of money in that shop, let me tell you, and I’ve never regretted a fat quarter of it.

So come on down to Indiana next week. I’m one of the featured presenters and I guarantee to put on a good show. You’ll make new friends, you’ll spend some of that money that’s burning a hole in your pocket, and you’ll get out of town for a minute. It’s summer. You’re supposed to do that.

Now, who wants a lolly?

Book Signing! Launch Party! NYC! City Quilter! May 20th!

posted in: Art, New York City, Work 6
Look in there. Just look in there! Heavenly.
Look in there. Just look in there! Heavenly. The City Quilter is at 133 W. 25th St., New York City. You can call them at 212-807-0390 and visit them at cityquilter.com. They are very nice.  

One month from today, there is going to be a neat party. I am personally inviting YOU to come to it.

But of course I am! Because I see you.

I see you there, scrolling down the screen in your adorable pajama pants. I see you too, you at your desk at work with your candy drawer. (May I have a piece of candy? Thanks! You’ve always been so incredibly nice to me. :: unwraps, chews :: ) I see you with your tablet on the couch, sir, and I see you, gal on your phone on the bus, reading the RSS feed of PaperGirl like a champ. You’re all fabulous! And you’re all invited to this here party.

On May 20th, 2014 — one month from right now — in the early evening*, come to The City Quilter in scenic Manhattan. We’re having a party for my book! Wow! Isn’t it a wonderful thing to celebrate the existence of a book?? Humans are so cool.

I’ll be there, selling and signing Make + Love Quilts. Really cool quilters and designers will be there, too. I can’t name-drop, but if I did, you’d like, WOAH because these are name-drop-worthy people.

And hey, if you don’t give a whiff about quilts but just really like PaperGirl, guess what? You will love the party, too, and be most welcome there. There’s a lot writing in my book. It’s a quilt book for sure, but it’s a PaperGirl quilt book. A non-quilter can actually curl up with tea and this book and not wonder why he/she is reading a quilt book. It’s a book-book. It’s for everyone.

So, come to the party! You guys! You ladies! Let’s do it! Let’s have fun! I want to meet you! Have you ever been in Manhattan in May?? It’s ridonk-a-donk! So beautiful! It’s like being in a Gershwin song!

Book a flight, take a train, hail a cab. Come to the party on May 20th. Live a little!

 

Tips For The Beginner Quilter In All of Us (A Diagram-Chart-Schematic-Graphic)

posted in: Quilting, Work 6
Everyone likes shapes. That's Grandma Moses, by the way.
Everyone likes shapes. That’s Grandma Moses, by the way.

I’m in Cleveland at the Original Sewing and Quilt Expo show. I’ll be teaching today; tomorrow, I’ll teach again and then give a lecture. If you’re in the state of Ohio, you should do the following immediately:

1. Eat a buckeye
The candy, I mean! Not the sports fan, tree, chicken, or passenger train that also use the term “buckeye.” Eating a passenger train… What’s wrong with you??

2. Drive to the OSQE show.
It’s at the I-X Center. I don’t know what I-X is for, but is there any better place for us all to find out than in the actual I-X Center? Clearly, there is not.

3. Come find me!
I’m wearing pants, shoes, and a top. And earrings. And a necklace. And bra and underwear, naturally, and I’m deodorized and flossed. Can’t miss me. Shouldn’t miss me, really. We can rap about the tip sheet up there. It’s full of good information for beginner quilters of all ages and stages.

4. Gimme one of those buckeyes.
I smell peanut butter on you. You’re holding out. C’mon, man, hurry up… No, just do it quick! Just be cool! Aright, aright. Now we’re talkin’… Mmmm…

:: munch munch ::

The End.

Make + Love Quilts: Scrap Quilts for the 21st Century

posted in: Art, Quilting, Work 5
Dat dere's muh book!
I, libros.

I don’t have any children. But I have written a book. Because of this book, I feel I understand a thing or two about parentage and stewardship, about hard work and real fear.

(Before we get too far along, if you don’t have time to read the rest of this, I completely understand and you can just jump to pre-ordering my book right here and thank you, darling, you look exceptionally handsome/gorgeous today!)

Let’s break down the [MOTHER] is to [AUTHOR] as [CHILD] is to [BOOK] analogy:

CHILD: A moment of conception must occur (i.e., orgasm.)
BOOK: A moment of conception must occur (i.e., great idea.)

CHILD: Blastocyst = cluster of cells formed early in mammal development
BOOK: Outline = cluster of ideas formed early in manuscript development

CHILD: The expectant mother may experience extreme tiredness, mood swings, carpal tunnel syndrome, nipple tenderness.
BOOK: Expectant author may also experience all of the above. WELL SHE CAN, OKAY??

CHILD: Needs a name.
BOOK: Needs a name that will sell.

CHILD: Though each woman’s labor varies, nearly all experience degrees of severe pain in labor and delivery.
BOOK: Author labor varies, but nearly all experience degrees of severe pain throughout the editing process and delivery of manuscript.

CHILD: May arrive diseased and malformed through no direct fault of the mother.
BOOK: Totally on you.

Let us leave the analogy, then, and let me tell you about the book coming out this spring from C&T Publishing. This is not the official book blurb, this is just me, PaperGirl, talking to you.

I wrote Make + Love Quilts: Scrap Quilts for the 21st Century is my book to delight readers, artists, and quilters. There are patterns for twelve original bed-sized scrap quilts, designed by me. There is instruction that takes you through the quiltmaking process, start to finish. There are tips and advice for creating good patchwork and a good life. There are quotes on love from all kinds of folks from Nietzsche to Montaigne to Marilyn Monroe. There is stunning photography of the quilts (gorgeous style shots as well as front and back flat shots of each), the fabric used, and the Quilt Charms I had engraved and stitched on the back.

The art direction is killer. When I was on a phone meeting with the book team in California, I reached for the sky: I told them to “make this book the most beautiful book you have ever made. Ever.” I promised them I’d do my part — and they held up their end of the bargain, I assure you. The book is more beautiful than I even imagined it would be. I’ve cried several times and I haven’t even seen a bound galley copy, yet.

The book costs $22.95 and you can get it right here.

I’ll share more soon. I’m so excited. I think I made a good baby.